52 lines
2.4 KiB
Plaintext
52 lines
2.4 KiB
Plaintext
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WHOOPS!!
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We had one heckuva week last week here in the spaciously cramped office of The
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National Satirist.
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First, our practically brand new personal computer, outfitted with an amazing
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array of software and peripherals, attempted machinicide by daisy-chaining RAM
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chip failures up and down the Mother Board.
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Eight hundred thirty-six dollars later -- don't feel sorry for us, we have a
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service contract on it thank God -- we were on our merry way again, only four
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days behind schedule.
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Then, just as we were about to fix the silly mistake we had made in last
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week's edition (by means of which readers were spirited into our Feedback area
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instead of our Political Satire area), a member of our family began imitating
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our PC's failure, blowing out scads of brain cells in a manic episode that ended
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up in admission to an exclusive suite in the local hospital to the tune of $500
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per day, three weeks' minimum.
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As if none of the above were the single choice of the week, we were visited by
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a platoon of mourning relatives of a good friend of ours who was taken by Mr.
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Dead against her will -- and suddenly, to boot. (Mr. Dead is here through the
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courtesy of "Mad Max, Beyond Thunderdome" by the way.)
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The saying that "bad things happen in groups of three" couldn't be more
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applicable to our situation unless the saying could be changed, thus: "bad
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things happen in exponents of three." Here is a short list of some of the other
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things which happened to us last week...
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* The kitty that adopted us three weeks ago turned out to be pregnant.
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* Our spouse was attacked by her own gall bladder.
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* The gall bladder, stunned at its own viciousness, rampaged throughout the
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neighborhood and caused much damage.
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* Our four-year-old tried to fly.
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* We were attacked in our office by four foul-smelling drunken thugs. They
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didn't hurt us but, in their alchoholic state, managed to trash the place.
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* One of the thugs sobered up later in the day and came back in order to turn
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us into some kind of steak for having him arrested and detained by the police.
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* The police -- this time from another jurisdiction -- pulled up in battalion
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strength in front of our house. They had the right address but the wrong
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street. We felt, for a moment, like the MOVE.
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We promise to do better in the coming weeks. (Gosh, I hope they have a
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terminal available at St. Eligius.)
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